Face The Blackened Sky
by dearmrsawyer
Summary: He didn't spare a thought for the desolate wasteland beneath his feet. Sam only had eyes for souls.


**Face The Blackened Sky**

Ash settled, clearing the air. Night fell, hiding the mess.

He walked, bare feet padding the broken ground, but didn't feel a thing. The world around him screamed, begged for mercy, but mercy was not part of the plan. The world was of no interest to him.

It had been so long since _green_. Life had become scarce, and survivors rarely recognised each other anymore. There was a new race populating Earth now. Not so much new, as often overlooked. They had always been there, but there were few who knew. He changed all that; he made them visible, obvious – dominant.

The Below was pointless. The evil was no longer contained in that deep Pit, not after he'd taken control of matters. He had searched for a way in, but no one had permitted him entry. He dealt, bargained, threatened, but Hell was off-limits. Sam Winchester couldn't get into Hell, so Sam Winchester had brought Hell to Earth.

Devil's Gates across the States had been ripped open, not by hand or iron, but by power. Sam stood before each one and commanded it to open. Sam had embraced Azazel's _gift_ long ago. He became more than a hunter; he became a kinsman of the enemy. An agent of both sides – Sam had to choose one. But Sam didn't see it that way. They only side Sam had ever been on was Dean's. If Sam had to use his powers to find Dean, he would do it. If Sam had to tear this world apart to find Dean, he would do it.

If Sam had to tear other worlds apart to find Dean, he would do it.

Ruby once showed Sam how to call upon his powers; in the long run, Sam realised she knew nothing of true power. Sam's limits had disappeared. He had developed far beyond anything she had taught him.

_I can't believe I started out just having dreams. Do you know what I can do now?_

Sam stood before freshly opened gates, watching as black smoke erupted from the fiery pit. He narrowed his eyes; they glinted golden beneath a blackened sky. Once, only a flash of yellow had been visible. But Sam had taken on abilities that ran deep within his blood; his eyes were scarred with Azazel's poison. He could hear the screams of those trapped Below, but none he knew.

Dean was deeper.

Closing his eyes, Sam outstretched a long arm and _pulled_. Energy flowed from his fingers, reaching for Hell's occupants and ripping them out. No demon would let Sam into Hell for his brother. Sam planned on dragging every last soul in Hell onto Earth.

Satisfied that his effects were lasting, Sam lowered his hand, turning to leave. Behind him, spirits and demons spilled out of Hell, the kingdom of darkness emptying at an accelerating rate. Sam walked away unscatched; protected.

Steel frames stood where buildings had been; roads lay cracked and stained - blotched by blood. Trees were either bare or uprooted. Sam walked the deserted streets, eyes washing over destruction and debris. He didn't spare a thought for the desolate wasteland beneath his feet. Sam only had eyes for souls.

Sam had exorcised many of the faces he saw - he could see their faces now. It had taken years, but eventually Sam's powers had manifested enough for Sam to recognise _his own kind_. They didn't dare touch him, but they passed him, their whispers taking the shape of a subtle wind.

So many faces, but never the one he sought.

Walking the ruins of an annihilated world, Sam saw the occasional human face - they recoiled in his presence. Although ridden with fear, they were entranced. Since the disappearance of the Sun beyond demonic clouds, Sam's eyes were the only yellow this world saw.

He reached what was once an intersection, coming to a stop as a smoky figure prohibited his way. They were separated by air and dust, but there was something about the way the spiritual entity took shape that stopped Sam from tearing it apart as he had so many others.

The demon hissed, and Sam froze

The inconsistent silhouette was distorted in the wind, but soon took on a slightly more solidified form. For the first time in years, Sam felt emotion swell inside him. His golden eyes flashed the slightest blue as distant memories hindered his mind.

Words slid through the air, falling on Sam's ears. The demon barely hovered, waiting for Sam to say something back. But the Winchester could not speak. Sam hadn't spoken for years - his tongue was out of practise. The demon spoke softly, toneless and hollow, and Sam felt his heart begin to pound. His breath grew heavy and he took one step closer, eyes running over familiar features that materialised and dissipated across the smoky being. Sam felt bile rise up in his throat and he dropped his head, his eyes glazing over as the first tears he'd shd in a decade cascaded down his flawless face.

The energy emitting from his body changed. Air swelled around him as he swayed, his knees threatening to give way. Not a sound escaped his mouth as his force degenerated from distraction. Only one could have such an affect. Minutes passed as Sam wept, unable to come to grips with that one he faced; all the while the world around them continued to fall.

Heaving, Sam swallowed his pain, blinking away the salty residue of tears. Taking a deep breath, he raised his eyes, his mind made up. _There isn't a choice_. The pale azure of his eyes darkened, seemingly black, before currents of energy rippled the ground and his eyes flashed the purest of gold. The switch in Sam's mind flicked, discharging power. Destiny overpowered love. Sam's heart remembered compassion _and _love, but there was not enough heart left in him to renounce what he had become.

The demon was becoming evermore solid, taking the shape of a human body. It was obviously unaware of Sam's intention; it would have fled. The hunter strode forward, his hand reaching behind himself. His powers were of no use anymore - Hell was emptying. It would do not good to send anything back there.

Sam reached the demonic force, pulling a cool, familiar hilt from its sheath and forcing the blade into the demon's black heart.

Years of searching were laid to waste. Sam's brother had become the very thing he had hunted for years. Dean had become Sam's prey.


End file.
